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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161545">i'm not ever going back</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_live/pseuds/sunflower_live'>sunflower_live</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band), Parallels (Film)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, New York City, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Time Travel, but is anyone really dead?, i swear i like zayn irl, it was either him or liam so i just.., they like to tiptoe around their feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:49:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_live/pseuds/sunflower_live</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Parallels au where Harry and Gemma receive an alarming call from their father that sets them on a hunt through alternate universes. Featuring Niall as their lovable sidekick neighbor and Louis as the mysterious stranger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first ever fic so please bear with me. I made a powerpoint outline at 2am. This is a major wip and based on the first chapter I expect it to be around 30k and roughly 16 chapters. I got the idea after watching this movie that I had never heard of, which obviously was meant to have a sequel but since it never will, I thought I would finish it up. The first half is what the movie covers and the second is my interpretation of how it should end.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Harry, it’s Dad. You need to come home immediately. You must get to the building by 6:19 p.m. on Sunday, exactly. It’s 156 William. Come home now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t tell if his head is pounding from being smashed against the floor during the fight, or from the ominous message he received right after losing it. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth and he has to check if he’s missing a tooth or if he’s just split his lip. With the adrenaline still working its way through his system, he can’t feel any pain, leading him to stare at his battered face in the reflection of the window. The darkness outside and the singular bulb hanging from the ceiling allowing him to see himself. The discovery that he has all of his teeth still in his head does nothing to ease his mind, his father's voicemail replaying in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come home now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been two years since he’s seen him, and even then it was accidental. Gemma had reassured him that Des wouldn’t be home when he stopped by to grab the rest of his stuff. She had said that he would be out running errands. Harry couldn’t have known that she was actually the one doing the shopping, and had been since their mother died. She planned it, knowing that Harry needed the comfort of his father to ease his conscience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once closer to him than anyone else, Harry left his life behind three years ago, the day his mother died. It was an accident. He didn’t mean for it to happen and if you asked anyone else, they would say he couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. That doesn’t stop the constant guilt that tears him apart every second of the day, that led him to the grimey building he’s currently sitting in, to fight men twice his size until he can barely feel anything at all. It’s what he believes he deserves, all of the blood and broken bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry can’t let his father down again. He unwraps his hands, packs his bag, and makes his way out the door. Spotting his black Harley Davidson street bike shining in the streetlight, Harry makes his way over to it, a slight limp dragging his step. Bag thrown over his shoulder, he grabs his helmet that had been hanging from the handlebars and tucks his blood-matted curls into it, careful not to bump his bruised face any more than necessary. Swinging himself onto the seat, he turns the key and takes off, letting himself get lost in the cool night breeze if only for just a second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing as his father lives in a quiet neighborhood outside New York City and Harry’s most recent string of fights had been upstate in Syracuse, he rides until morning, catching sight of the city just as the sun rises in an orange and gold glow over the river. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun has reached the top of the sky by the time he pulls into the neighborhood he grew up in. The one way street clear of anyone at this time, only the occasional sparrow fluttering in front of him, the hum of his bike doing nothing to deter them. Reaching his father's house, Harry parks beside Gemma’s car that seems to have also just arrived, the warmth radiating from the engine as he slides himself between the hood and the closed garage door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Forgoing knocking, he instead pulls out his cluttered keyring, which still holds the key to the house he’d never envisioned himself returning to. He slides the tarnished piece of metal into the deadbolt, turning it with little protest. The old off-white door opens as if it had expected his arrival, creaking only slightly as he slips inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gemma? Dad? Are you guys in here?” Harry slowly shouts, unsure of if this is the best place for him to be at the moment. He could’ve just disregarded the message, kept himself from trudging up old memories. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma appears from the top of the stairs, platinum hair in a haphazard ponytail and a panicked look on her face, “Hey H. I take it you got the same call as I did? Dad’s not here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking in her appearance, only a second goes by before Harry starts to piece it all together and worry himself into a slight frenzy. Why would his father call them both? Why ask them to come home if he’s not going to be here? Des isn’t the type to go out without reason, especially considering he’s practically been a recluse the past three years, relying on his daughter to keep himself alive. “Did he leave a note or anything? Is the car still here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma makes her way down the stairs, “Harry, what happened?” Concern etches her features as she’s now close enough to see the way his own blood streaks his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a fight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Realizing what she’s interpreting, he backtracks, “I mean a match. I box. Semi-professional.” He doesn’t include the fact that it’s completely underground. To get back on track he adds, “So has he left anything?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The concern she has for him only clears marginally but she continues on, ’“I haven’t seen a note and I haven’t checked the garage yet. I got here minutes before you did.” Stepping past him and to the right, she leads the way to the door that grants them entrance to the connected garage, pushing it open and allowing Harry to step down the two stairs first, “Well now I’m really worried. Where could he have possibly gone without needing his car?” She looks at him, her voice revealing how truly agitated she has grown to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he hasn’t left. Check the car.” Not wanting to see anything he hasn’t prepared himself for, Harry pushes Gemma in front of himself, urging her to look inside the windows of the red 1999 Honda Civic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giving him a look that says, ‘don’t be ridiculous’, Gemma takes a peak anyways, finding nothing. Harry moves around back and plants himself in front of the trunk, once again giving his sister a pointed look. She rounds the car, unlatching the trunk slowly, not wanting to see what is there in the off chance that it could be something gruesome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slapping his arm, Gemma’s honey brown eyes practically piercing through Harry’s soul with the glare she sends his way after revealing the near emptiness, “His body isn’t in there you asshole. Just his bag.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Harry’s about to reach in and pull the army green duffle out, their neighbors bring their argument outside, a mother-son screaming match fit for children, not a man close to Gemma’s own age, nearing his late twenties, “Would you look at that, Niall’s still around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. Every time I’m around he has a way of popping up,” although sounding irritated, she waves him over with a strained smile anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey guys! Sorry you had to hear that. Mom’s been off her rocker lately. Or well, you know, for years if I’m honest. But oh well, that’s besides the point,” Niall blurts out as he finishes running across the street, no chance to catch his breath, “Harry! I haven’t seen you in years! How have you been? Gemma, looking as gorgeous as always,” he sends a wink in her direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall, we might actually need your help,” Gemma says after throwing another look at Harry and a sweet smile Niall’s direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall beams back at her, barely containing his joy at hearing her words, “Anything for you! What can I do for you, darling?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall.. I swear to God,” Harry mutters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Niall shoots back, as if he has no idea what Harry’s referring to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma rolls her eyes, looking back at Niall, “When was the last time you saw our dad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not quite sure. Not since yesterday morning I’d imagine. Why?” Niall flits his gaze back and forth between the two, worry quickly covering his features.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma looks down, not happy with what she’s been told, “He left us both weird messages last night, and we haven’t heard from him since.” She points to the duffle in the trunk, “And we found his bag. He wouldn’t leave his bag behind without a reason.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know guys, I am a lawyer now. Well public defender but that’s besides the point,” Niall says, obviously trying to impress Gemma, “I’m buddies with Captain Higgins at the police department, shall we pay him a visit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry pipes up, “How about we check what’s inside this bag first. No need to jump to conclusions.” He grabs it by the strap and begins walking towards the door. Gemma follows close behind while Niall keeps his feet planted, watching them retreat, “Come on Niall. If you’re going to help us you need to keep up.” He seems to refocus and scurries behind them, latching the door behind himself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It looks like I'll be writing and uploading a chapter a day :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Walking into the kitchen, Harry carefully sets the duffle on the dining table and works on unzipping it, “What the.. There’s only this thing in here?” Harry could feel how light the bag was when he carried it but he wasn’t expecting to find that the only contents were a small object wrapped in newspaper. He pulls it out, peeling the paper from it gently and revealing a little spherical device, the diameter no greater than four inches. It’s smooth and black, with a little button like indent on the top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” Gemma grabs it from Harry’s hands, as only a sister would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she’s looking it over, Niall grabs the discarded newspaper and passes it to Harry, “Look at this paper, it’s got kind of a strange headline, ‘Trump Assasinated: America Mourns the 44th President’, is this supposed to be a joke?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reading it for himself, Harry looks at it sceptically, “But he’s not dead. And wait, 44th president? Wasn’t Obama the 44th?” he looks at the date on the paper, April 17, 2014, “This has to be a joke.” He flips it over to inspect it further, finding something written on the back in black sharpie. Scrawled messily in his father’s handwriting is, “Leave. Get to the building. 156 William. No later than 6:19 p.m. Sunday,” Harry shows it to the others, pointing to the writing, “He said this in the voicemail too. Looks like we should go there.” Harry pulls his phone from the back pocket of his faded blue jeans and glances at the screen, “We have a bit of time so I’m going to take a quick shower, clean myself up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Harry has a chance to take off up the stairs, Gemma decides it’s best to formulate a plan, “Shall we leave here in thirty minutes? It’s still early so we should stop by the police station on our way to this building, maybe see if they’ve heard anything or if they can put out a missing persons report? Just in case?” Niall and Harry nod back at her, Harry making his way out of the kitchen and to the stairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Freshly bathed and unruly curls only towel dried, Harry peeks back in the kitchen to see the other two sitting at the table, “Let’s go guys. Gemma, you okay driving? I only have my bike.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma looks up at him, “Sure.” She pulls her chair out, getting up and grabbing her keys from off the counter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay that I’m coming?” Niall asks the both of them, not wanting to overstep but letting a touch of his excitement show through, “I know he’s not my dad.. if you guys want me to stay behind I don’t mind,” he trails off, glancing down at his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry and Gemma share a look, “Niall, seriously? You may act like an overexcited puppy at times but we’d love nothing more than to have you join us,” Harry says, hoping that he hasn’t hurt his feelings by comparing him to an animal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you might as well be the third Styles sibling anyways, seeing as you basically lived at our house when we were growing up,” Gemma adds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall looks at them, disappointment showing in his eyes for just a fraction of a second before his enthusiasm takes over, “Okay! Let's get a move on! What are we waiting for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry slings the duffle over his shoulder and leads the others to the champagne Subaru Outback. Keeping the bag with him, he lets himself into the passenger seat, Gemma taking the wheel and Niall behind her in the second row. She starts the engine and steadily backs out of the driveway, careful not to knock Harry’s bike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive to the station is uneventful, as is the visit itself. Niall takes over when they reach the front desk, asking for the Captain by name. As their luck would have it, he’s down the hall in his office filing paperwork. The sweet old lady working as the secretary pages him to the front room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The large man strolls in to see them, his overgrown facial hair proof that he’s a busy man with little time for himself. As they explain the situation, Des’ disappearance, Captain Higgins insists that they don’t have enough evidence to file a report. Their father is a responsible adult and a slightly off-putting phone message isn’t grounds to send busy NYPD officers out to search for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only slightly defeated, seeing as it was Niall’s idea to talk to the Captain in the first place, Harry mentions the building to him on their way out, “What is this place he told us to visit in his message? 156 William Street?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s been abandoned for years. You won’t find anything there,” Higgins tells the group. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not convinced, Harry thanks the Captain and the three make their way back to the car, “We have to check it out anyway. Dad said to be there. 6:19 is too specific for it to not mean anything,” Harry addresses the two as he slides back into the passenger seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put it in Maps,” says his sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The instructions indicate that the building is only fifteen minutes away, meaning that they should get there around 6 p.m. Gemma carefully menouvers the car to the address, a building that, true to Captain Higgins' word, looks as if no one has been in or out of it in a long time. The windows of the tall building are covered in dirt and the doors have graffitied posters pasted to them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three collectively let out their breaths when there’s an open parking spot directly in front of the building, an unusual occurrence seeing as how busy the Financial District is, “Well, I guess we better get in there,” Harry murmurs as he looks at the time, 6:03 p.m. He opens his door, bag in hand, and the others follow. They dodge the determined Wall Streeters, men and women in suits who’ve just gotten off of work and are trying to catch their trains home at nearby Fulton station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the doorway of the building, Harry looks up, it’s easily 40 floors. It’s surprising that it’s been empty for so long with how prime the location is. Surely someone would want to use it for offices, Harry thinks to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A strong shove at the doors opens them, revealing that they aren’t kept locked, “This feels weird, doesn’t it?” Gemma voices with unease as she trails behind Harry, Niall walking a few steps behind the pair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad wouldn’t tell us to come here without a reason. Let’s look around,” Harry states while stepping further into the massive yet empty room. There aren’t even walls dividing the space, only a stairwell to the right and an elevator to the left. Graffiti marks the walls, almost completely covering them in shades of blue, green, and red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall speaks up from the furthermost corner of the room, “Guys, read the writing on the walls.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘In my world terrorists flew planes into the Twin Towers on October 23rd, 2001’,” Gemma vocalizes what she sees written on the wall she’s standing in front of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry walks over to her, inspecting it for himself, “How could that be right? ‘My world’?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall calls them over to where he’s standing, “Look at this one, ‘Avoid Earth 33, the contagion has spread’. What’s Earth 33?” He moves his eyes to another piece of graffiti, “Earth 398 is safe, no weapons, locals friendly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are all of these talking about different Earth’s? Is this some sort of place where people come to do drugs? They experience some strange group psychosis?” Harry responds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma has moved off on her own now, looking at a small piece of script near the floor, “Found an Earth where all babies are born as twins,” she laughs as she reads it to the other two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a look at this one, ‘What is Earth 1?’” Harry reads over Niall's shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the lights start flashing, a siren starts blaring, “Guys what the hell is going on?!” Running to the door, Gemma pushes on it and this time it won’t open, no matter how much of her own weight she forces against the long metal bars. But then, with the same quickness with which it had begun, it ends. The doors push open, and from the momentum of her effort, she falls to the ground. She sputters as she looks up, “What.. Where.. Harry what’s happening?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know your thoughts!<br/>As always, you can find me at sunflower-live on tumblr.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The longest chapter yet!<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stepping out of the building and taking in their surroundings, Harry dumbly holds his hand out for Gemma to use as leverage to pull herself up, his mouth agape in disbelief. Scrambling to her feet, Gemma is able to get a better look at what’s now in front of them, “Where are the buildings? The buildings are gone?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall looks at her, words caught in his throat, “Did we get nuked?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’d be dead,” Harry responds, stunned, unable to fathom the reason for their disappearance. He looks back at the building they had just walked from and then towards what’s now in front of them, “Our building’s fine, how’s that possible?!” It looks as if they’re in the middle of an apocalypse. Cars litter the scene before them, all with their windows broken in and bodies rusted to the point of no return. Long vines crawl in and out of every available opening, crushing them like an octopus would its prey. What’s left of any semblance of civilization is decrepit, the few buildings left standing seem to sway in the wind, shells of what they had been only moments ago, the beams exposed and leaning towards the ground, as if begging to be taken back by the land they were once towering over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ever the voice of reason, her Yale mind whirring with possibilities, Gemma states, “I don’t think this is new. Look how grown over everything is,” she tugs at a purple Wisteria branch that’s making its way up the side of a car, it’s flowers blooming over the side-view mirror that’s dangerously close to breaking from the weight and falling to the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moments later Harry hears the snap of a twig and looks towards the sound, spotting a couple walking in the distance, “Hey! Can you guys help us?” he shouts in their direction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Speeding up, the man, who looks to be middle aged, dressed in ragged cargo shorts and a dirty plaid shirt, shouts back, “Go away! Leave us alone!” He pulls out a handgun from his waistband, pointing it at the three. Tugging on his companions arm, they continue to scurry away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would he do that?” Niall thinks aloud, processing what he just witnessed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair makes their way to a dirt road that crosses their path a few paces ahead, and not a minute later a small red beat up pickup truck skids to a stop in front of them. As the dust settles, it reveals three men standing in the bed of it. One of them pulls a rifle seemingly out of nowhere and screams at the two, “Don’t even try to run!” and shoots them, one after another execution style, point blank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as they drop to the ground, Gemma lets out a scream, hands over her mouth, “Oh my God!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The small group of men look their way. The one closest to the cab taps on the glass to get the drivers attention and proceeds to point at the three outsiders. The truck shifts out of park and accelerates towards them, the transmission protesting at the speed in which the driver has carried out the command. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Run!” shouts Harry. He pushes Niall and his sister in the direction of the building, “We need to get back inside.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They take off sprinting towards the big double doors, pushing them open and not bothering with trying to barricade them once they’ve made it inside. Harry leads the way towards the stairwell, ignoring the elevator, thinking that it wouldn’t be safe even in the off chance that it did work. They take them two at a time. Each floor is labeled, painted with big white block numbers. They reach the ninth floor in practically no time, only to find that it’s been caged off. Harry pulls on the padlocked metal gate with all of his strength but it won’t budge, “We don’t have time for this,” he says in frustration. They backtrack to the previous floor and push the door at the landing open, moving through it and running down the hallway that it opens to. They go until they reach the end, finding themselves in a big room, empty except for a couple of tables. Just like on the first floor, this room's walls are covered in graffiti. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing by the window, Niall motions the others over, “Look guys, they’re not coming in.” The hostile men had parked their truck at the foot of the building and had gotten out, but hadn’t followed them inside. They’re standing about twenty feet from the doors, looking up and waving their guns in the air while shouting unintelligibly. “This place is so fucking weird,” Niall mumbles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would Dad send us here?” Gemma asks the others.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks over at her, “I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can’t be,” she responds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys, I have a theory but I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Niall starts slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any theory is better than no theory,” Harry voices what they’re all thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at the walls again. It’s talking about different Earths, different worlds, different histories.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but it’s bullshit. Crazy talk,” Harry scoffs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what if it’s not? We’re on Earth now, but look outside, it’s not our Earth, it’s a different version of it. There’s no denying it,” Niall looks between the other two as he waves towards the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you guys should listen to him, he’s not wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three whip around as a man appears out of the shadows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Who are you? Where did you come from?” asks Harry as he takes him in. </span><span>At first glance, he’s convinced that God has sent them an angel.</span> <span>The man is small in stature but his presence fills the room. His hair is pushed to the side, wispy caramel strands giving away that he’s been fiddling with it. His blue eyes catch in the light that streams through the nearby window, shining with mirth. He removes his backpack, tossing it onto a nearby table and swiftly jumps up beside it. As it squeaks in protest, he leans down and adjusts his navy tracksuit, pulling it down on his ankles, effectively covering up the spider web tattoo that had momentarily shown itself. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The building is pretty big,” he shrugs, “I’m Louis,” he holds out his hand for them but quickly realizes that they’re not looking to get any closer to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Harry, the brunette is Niall, and that’s Gemma over there,” Harry points to the others as he introduces them, “What do you mean he wasn’t wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got on on the last Earth, yes? The one with the wireless internet and the fancy phones and pretentious coffee? It hasn’t gone anywhere, you have. This Earth, this Earth’s been here too. It’s just been nuked,” Louis says while swinging his hand around, as if to motion to what’s outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks at him, skeptical, “This Earth?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis rolls his eyes, “Yeah, every so often you stumble upon an Earth that’s been destroyed. Usually some US-Soviet thing from decades ago. Sometimes it’s China, sometimes it’s Pakistan. Once it was Egypt.. That was a strange Earth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you mean to tell me that this building somehow transported us to another Earth? Another dimension?” Gemma speaks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, obviously. Keep up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She continues on, choosing to go along with what he’s saying, “So how many Earths are there then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Nobody knows. Infinite maybe? There could be every possible Earth imaginable. There could be an Earth exactly like your Earth but just one less ant. Some people think that there’s an Earth that’s so amazing that it’s pretty much heaven,” Niall raises his hand, “Yes, nerd in the back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niall scoffs at his jab, “When can we go home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.. This building jumps every 24 hours, so we’ve got 22 hours left. It doesn’t look like this world is the most welcoming, so I’d recommend that we just wait it out inside. If you do go out, you have to be back for the jump.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gemma looks over at Harry, concern etching her features. He motions for her to speak up. “And what would happen if we didn’t get back in time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s the jones.” Louis replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looks at him, “The what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The jo-- nevermind. Just a saying from a kids show on my Earth,” he cuts himself off, “If you’re not here in time for the jump you might not ever go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh..” Gemma responds quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry cuts in, taking this as his chance to interrogate the new guy, “The jones?!” he laughs with disbelief, “What TV show? What channel was it on?” he glares at the man with the beautiful blue eyes, “What Earth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said nevermind,” he trails off before fighting back with slight venom in his tone, “I’m not from your Earth. You guys are the ones eating rainbow bagels and drinking coffees that might as well be dessert! Don’t act like I’m the strange one here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, sorry! I’m just a little confused by this whole situation. It’s not everyday that you find yourself stuck in a teleporting building!” and with less fight and more defeat in his voice, Harry looks to his feet and adds, “Really, I’m sorry.” His eyes come up again and find those belonging to the man in front of him, his breath leaving his lungs from the intensity of the look he’s met with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Louis urges, “To be honest, I’m used to being treated much worse,” hurt flashes in his eyes as he trails off, his brows drawing together for a fraction of a second, but Harry still catches it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vowing to himself that he will try to be more patient with this man, Harry walks forward, finally reaching out to shake his hand, “Let’s start over. I’m Harry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louis slides off the table, his smaller hand meets Harry’s. He grips it and gives it a firm shake, “Louis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gemma and Niall walk forward as well, each taking a turn properly introducing themselves, “Gemma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Niall, nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Likewise,” Louis says before walking over the window, “Looks like they’ve moved on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others position themselves beside him while Harry speaks up, looking down at him and meeting his eyes once more, “What do you think we should do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we have quite a bit of time left, but as I said before, in worlds like this it’s smart to stay inside,” Harry nods back at him. “Want some peaches?” Louis addresses all three, strolling back over to the table that he had left his bag on. He pulls out a rusted can and a knife, and then proceeds to puncture the top and cut along the seam, doing the best he can without a can opener. He stabs one of the syrupy slices and shoves it in his mouth, “I’d recommend eating while you can, you never know when the next time you’ll find food will be.” The others decide to join him, taking him up on his offer for sustenance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” says Harry as he grabs the knife from him, eating the fruit on the end of it and passing it back for the other two to get a bite. They finish the can together in silence, allowing it to make its way back and forth between the four of them. After Louis throws the empty can in a corner, they strip themselves of their jackets and toss them on the floor, sitting on top of them to needlessly protect themselves from the filth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve still got plenty of time to kill,” Louis says, maneuvering himself to a lying position and shutting his eyes, “Might as well get a little rest.” The group follows his example, pillowing their jackets beneath their heads and falling into a much needed sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up! Hands where I can see them!” The four startle, awaking to militant shouting and guns aimed at their heads.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading and let me know what you're thinking!<br/>My tumblr is sunflower-live :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The group of men from outside are back, seeming to have left to gather more weapons to protect themselves from whatever they were afraid they may find in the building. Grips secure, they force each of the strangers from the ground as Harry grapples with the thought that they may as well be dead. Looking over at Louis, he sees that he’s calmer than himself and his companions. His face is schooled into one of indifference, as if he’s used to being in this position, being awoken to a likely fatal situation. Meeting his eyes, Harry gives him a look, wordlessly asking him what they should do, raising his brow slightly in unease, his forehead wrinkling with the effort. Reading his features, Louis only offers him a nonchalant shrug back, as if to say, just go along with it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not possessing the same ability to read the two men in the way that they seem to be capable of with each other, as if they’ve been companions for years, not hours, Gemma protests against their captors, kicking at whatever her leg is able to make contact with, “Let go of us! Let us go!” As she plants her feet to the ground, the burly man holding her wrists switches his grip, throwing her small frame over his shoulder with practiced ease, starting to make his descent down the stairs with the others in tow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall shakes his wrists in the man's hold, but not with nearly enough fight to break loose. He drags his steps, like a petulant child being drug to time-out, “Is this really necessary? Can’t you just let us mind our own business?” he addresses the group, a slight whine to his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bosses orders,” his imprisoner grunts back, his voice rough from years of smoking. Niall shakes his wrists once more before fully giving in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the afternoon sunlight outside the building, they’re split up and tossed in the back of two seperate trucks, Harry and Louis in the red one from before and Niall and Gemma in a similar black one. Each has a gun pointed at them to ensure that they don’t try to escape. The engines start with a sputter and they peel out of the grassy patch, driving to the dirt road, passing the bodies that were gunned down earlier in the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive is short, maybe only ten minutes, but Harry has a hard time counting the minutes seeing as he’s focusing instead on not getting shot in the head. He takes in as much of his surroundings as he can though; the rusty posts that once carried the weight of street signs, the concrete barricades that block the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge, and the faded green poles that mark the now vacant subway stations. Having grown up in the city, he’s able to determine that the trucks are following a road that used to be Broadway, running from Battery Park up to Union Square. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They veer right, reaching the steps that mark Union Square park, now overgrown with greenery, following what used to be 14th Street. Stopping abruptly at a massive compound shortly after, Harry thinks it could be the remnants of Stuy Town, although it looks so much like an apocalyptic military base that he can’t be sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trucks drive through an opening in the makeshift stacked wooden pallet fencing, driving towards the structurally unsound building, metal beams covered in blue tarps to create a facade only minorly similar to that of walls. Coming to a stop, the drivers hop from their seats and lend a hand to the men in charge of holding the group captive. They haul them from the vehicles and towards an opening in the tarp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The four keep silent in fear of putting themselves in an even less favorable position. Entering the building, they are met with another group of men, but one stands out more than the others. Mouth agape with disbelief, Harry tries to process what he’s seeing. Right in front of him, not unlike hours earlier, stands Captain Higgins, but this time, his overgrown facial hair has sprouted into a full on beard, his tanned skin is covered in dirt, and his buff colored uniform is fraying at the edges. Harry looks towards Gemma and Niall, noticing that they too are looking him up and down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oblivious to their revelation, Louis speaks up, “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you guys doing in our territory? I haven’t seen you four before,” Higgins interrupts him rudely, addressing Harry instead. His mind moves a mile a minute, trying to come up with a reply. He looks at Louis, begging for him to give him an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, my friend here’s a mute. Childhood fever. He’s not all there,” he waves his hand around his head to punctuate his point, “We’re just passing through. We’re coming from Pennsylvania and on our way up to Boston,” Louis supplies, “We don’t want any trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boston? You won’t find anything there,” he replies, mirroring what he had told Harry at the station, “Why were you in the building?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry can see the hint of fear in Louis' eyes as he speaks once more, deciding to go with the truth this time, “It looked like a safe place to hide.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From who?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis slows his speech with uncertainty, “From your men. We saw them shoot two people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not thrilled with what he’s just heard, Higgins spins to direct his next query at his men, “What did I tell you about that shit?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They came after us,” his second in command lies easily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Higgins turns back to the four, “The building is very dangerous. We avoid it and I would recommend that you all do the same,” he says with a serious tone, mouth downturned showing his sincerity, “I’m sorry for keeping you guys,” he nods his head sideways towards the scrawny man standing to his right, “Sal can take out of town if you’d like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They make a move to leave, but as they’re just feet from the door, Niall choses to convey his gratitude, “Thanks Captain Higgins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Higgins snaps his head towards Niall so fast that it’s a wonder he hasn’t shouted out in pain, “Stop!” The outsiders halt their movement, guns once again pointed in their direction, “How do you know I was police?!” he demands in a mixture of incredulity and anger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I -- You look like a guy with authority,” Niall starts slowly but doesn’t get the chance to finish, the men closing in on them and snatching their wrists, wrenching them behind their backs with ten times the force they had shown before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Higgins moves towards him, stopping with his face inches from Nialls, not accepting his answer, “How did you know my name?! Not even my own men know my real name!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall looks at Louis, silently hoping that he’ll help him the way he had helped Harry, “Just a guess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?!” he raises his voice impossibly louder, nostrils flaring with anger from being lied to, “Where are you people from?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A man walks in from a door behind the Captain, he’s younger than the rest of the men, around Harry’s own age. His hair is jet black, his features sharp. His jean jacket is marked with grease and his pants are ripped at the knees. If this Earth wasn’t destroyed, Harry could imagine that this man could be a model, walking in New York Fashion Week. The young man speaks to Higgins, “They came from the building. Remember the last time somebody came out of that building?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With little patience in his voice, shaking his head at the man, Higgins responds, “Zayn, I don’t need to hear this shit right now --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was that man! The one that brought the nuke!” he cuts his superior off, “The man who murdered three quarters of this city came from that building!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Higgins leans down and shouts in his face in frustration, “That doesn’t make any sense! You’ve been up and down that building a million times! You’ve seen for yourself that it’s just as empty as any other structure in the city!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn lets out a frustrated groan of protest, “Look at them! They’re not from here!” he turns towards Louis, narrowing his eyes, “Where are you from?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not giving up on their cover, Louis responds with an even voice, furrowing his brows to feign innocence and confusion, “I told you. We’re from Pennsylvania.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn takes an intimidating step towards him, pointing in his face, nearly touching his nose with his grimey finger, “Not you!” He pivots and pins his look on Gemma, “Tell me, where are you from?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not having spoken for a while, she starts in a whisper, eyes downcast, “Pennsylvania.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“North or South?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can feel her heart rate increasing, “North.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? And who controls the North?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about the East?” he pauses, “ Who was the president when the bombs hit? When did the bombs hit?!” he grows more and more aggressive with each question he asks that goes unanswered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What nation are we in?!” he screams in her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With confidence, Gemma looks up at him and replies, “United States of America.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn looks back at the Captain, his voice returning to an even cadence, “I rest my case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks back over to him, a smug smirk stretching one side of his mouth. Higgins leans in, whispering to him but not with enough discretion to keep his thoughts from the outsiders, “What are you saying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn’s smile is wiped from his face and he leans in further, “What if they have a bomb?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If they had a bomb we’d be dead already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t used ours yet,” Zayn grinds his jaw, speaking through his teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry breaks his vow of silence, “We don’t have a bomb!” he says with a scoff at their accusation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you look at that! The mute can speak!” Higgins scowls at him. Turning back to Zayn he asks, “What do you think we should do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave them with me. I’ll find out everything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The men yank them forward, dragging them behind Zayn. He leads them to a cage, ten by ten and just tall enough for them to stand in, meant for dogs, not humans. They get pushed inside and a thick chain is looped around the door, a padlock fitting between two links to close it, ensuring that they can’t escape. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you think!<br/>Find me on tumblr at sunflower-live</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What are we supposed to do now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis lays eyes on the other boy, fully examining him for the first time. His eyes are the most beautiful shade of green, even in the dark lighting of the room they’re sat in, they stand out, shining with the emotion threatening to spill over his waterline. His chestnut curls swirl where they meet his neck, sticky with sweat. The dimples he’s only seen once, when they first met, hide away in his cheeks, but Louis insists that if he had the time, he could plant seeds in the crevices and watch them grow, sprout into a beautiful flower, the only thing that could rival Harry’s own grace. Shaking his head, having to physically clear his mind of his thoughts, Louis confesses, “I think we just need to wait it out, go along with what they say and hope that we can get back in time for the jump. We still have just over nine hours left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And if we aren’t back?” Gemma asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis tenses, “I think it’s best not to think that way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh God. The last time I talked to my mom we were fighting!” Niall realizes, his body slumping against the metal wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry steps over to him, resting his hand on his shoulder and meeting his eyes, “Hey, it’s all going to be okay. I promise.” It breaks his heart that he may not be telling the truth but he doesn’t know if he has a choice. He figures that instilling a little bit of hope in his neighbor is better than stealing any he has left away from him. Niall looks relieved by his words, and that’s all he can ask for at the moment. He steps away and towards his sister, “Gems, we need to remember why we’re here, we need to find dad.” He’s not sure if he’s saying this for her sake, or for his own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘find dad’?” Louis questions, his brows pulling together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did we not tell you?” Harry sighs, overwhelmed by the events of the day, “Our dad left a message for us, telling us to go to the building. He’s missing, and that’s the last we heard from him. This building is our only clue to where he could be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis blinks back at him, “Oh --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay let’s go, I need the blonde and the one with the blue eyes,” Zayn creeps up on them, standing beside the cage and rattling it as he unlocks the chain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall and Louis share a look, blue on blue. Louis decides that it’s best for him to go. Tilting his head toward the bench, he motions for Niall to sit down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn catches their exchange and waves Louis away, “No, not you. The quiet one.” He takes Gemma and Niall, grabbing them by their biceps and escorting them out of the enclosure. Another man who had come with him locks the chain back up and follows behind the trio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They disappear into the dark hallway as Harry weakly punches at the metal, the collision shivering against the metal beam it lays against, a tinny clink echoing throughout the building. He slumps onto the bench across from where Louis is seated, “Fuck! God dammit!” tears well in his eyes, threatening to spill over in frustration as he casts his gaze down to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn brings them to a small cluttered room. A desk spreads across the room, two metal chairs tucked underneath it. There’s a small, old computer screen sitting on top, screen black, and stretching along the back wall, there’s a metal bar. The man that had come in behind them walks ahead, pulling the chairs out. He then latches onto Niall with a low grunt. He forces his hands above his head and walks him to the wall, roughly tying his hand to the bar. Wordlessly, he saunters back out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now just the three of them, Zayn pushes Gemma down into one of the chairs and proceeds to rope her hands to the arms of it. He backs away and sits himself opposite Gemma. Fiddling with some wires he finds on the table, he ignores the two for a minute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma takes this as her chance to get on his good side, sweetly saying, “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zayn,” he doesn’t look up from his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Gemma. That’s my friend Niall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, pleasure to meet you. Why don’t you come over and shake my hand?” Niall spits at him, pulling on his restraints.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glares at Niall and then schools her expression as she looks back at the unpleasant man, “What do you do here Zayn?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I make things, repair things. Sometimes I do surgeries, although I don’t like how messy they can be,” he still doesn’t look up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you like doing the most?” Gemma treats him like a scared wild animal, keeping her tone light but her body on edge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like electronics but they’re hard to come by now,” he finally returns her gaze, narrowing his eyes, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Befriend your captor,” he slams his hand against the table, “It’s not going to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flinches, promptly halting her attempt at conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Zayn takes a deep breath, “So I have some questions I’m hoping you two can answer for me,” he flips on the computer and an image pops up. The mouse shakes with his hand and the cursor hovers over a small play button. The image clearer as it begins moving, “Who is this?” he demands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma gasps, taken back by what’s shown on the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it? What do you see?” Niall implores from feet away, nervous and unable to see for himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, it’s just us here.” Louis scans the small area, his eyes darting from wall to wall, and then stopping on Harry. His eyes lift with the words and his hand makes its way through his unkempt chestnut hair, tugging at a snarl it finds near his ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay --” Harry hesitates, his eyes clearing of tears as he tilts his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We might as well make the best of it,” he sheds his jacket, revealing the black ink marking his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry finds himself staring at the markings a tad longer than may be deemed acceptable. A rope finds its home on his wrist. He’ll have to ask him about it sometime, Harry thinks to himself, he coincidentally has a similar tattoo on his own wrist, an anchor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Don’t know if we’ll even make it out of here alive,” Louis interrupts Harry’s musings. He trails his words, winking at the man in front of him as he sets his jacket on the bench.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes widening with realization, Harry falters, “I, uhm, uh,” the blued eyed boy can’t know how much he would love to give in, how he’s been silently worshipping him since the moment they met. Knowing his infatuation could possibly be mutual does nothing to quell his nerves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s.. It’s my dad,” her jaw hangs with the discovery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew it! You guys are dangerous!” Zayn jumps from his seat to tower over Gemma.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why does that make us dangerous?” Gemma demands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man jabs his hand at the screen, “He killed my family!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He brought the bomb here! Look! He’s carrying it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallows, now seeing what he’s motioning to; a large, black, hard-shelled case. The quality is too poor to make out the details, but the facts are there, it’s Des, and he’s carrying something suspicious as he walks out of the big building that he himself had given them the address to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No --” she starts with caution.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” he bares his teeth, “He started it all. He blew up New York City. He blew up my family!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her features harden, “He wouldn’t!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was out of town at the time. He blew up my family and I wasn’t here,” his voice wavers with emotion, “New York was first but it wasn’t the last. Bombs struck nearly every city, decimating the country, mushroom cloud after mushroom cloud,” his voice finally breaks. He takes a moment to breathe, collecting himself before continuing his interrogation, “Where is he?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma stuns at his change in demeanor, “I don’t --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t lie to me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear,” her voice quivers, “I haven’t seen or heard from him in days!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabs onto the back of her chair, shaking it as he looms over her, “I said, do. not. lie!” he punctuates every word. Her eyes widen at his sudden proximity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall finds his voice, “She’s not lying!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn looks at the man, picking up a rifle from the ground and aiming it at him, “Gemma,” he smirks back at her, gun still aimed at Niall, “if you don’t tell me everything you know, I’ll shoot him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know anything!” she screeches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shoots at the wall behind Niall's head, the bullet clanging against the metal, “Tell me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves to shoot again but Gemma starts, “Okay. Okay!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to know what’s going to happen if you lie to me again?” he questions, moving to the corner closest to Niall. Tucked away, hidden in the mess of the space, is an object covered in a cloth. Zayn bends down, but as he does, Niall swings himself, using the bar like a gymnast would, and wraps his ankles around the man's neck, “Let go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really think I would give you that courtesy?” Niall scoffs, tightening his squeeze. He uses every bit of strength in his lean legs to cut off the air flowing through Zayns windpipe. It takes what feels like forever for him to fall unconscious. Once he collapses to the floor, Niall untwines his legs. He swings again, reaching his legs around an adjacent pole. He yanks his arms up and down with a force that will surely leave his wrists blackened with bruises. The hollow bar they’re hooked to snaps and he falls from the sudden freedom. He picks himself up and scurries to the table, pushing the contents that lie atop it around until he finds the tiny keys to their handcuffs. Unlocking his own, he then moves to getting Gemma free of hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Gemma commands as she shakes out her now bare wrists, “put the cuff on him,” she waves her hand in the direction of Zayn’s immobile body, “He could wake up any second.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall holds his hand out for Gemma’s pair, thinking that it would be best to use both on him, one for his ankles and one for his wrists. He moves towards the raven haired man, bending down and latching the end of one to the table, and one to his motionless leg. Once he’s finished doing so, he grabs his wrists, latching them together. “Done,” Niall exclames.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn’s breathing quickens, he stirs as he comes back to his senses. The two back towards the exit, keeping their steps light, but apparently not light enough, Zayn shakes himself awake. He looks their way and then looks at where his limbs are restrained, “Fuck!” he shouts, but then he notices something that the two hadn’t. His head had fallen against the large clothed cylinder, the object that they had failed to remember was what he had gone Niall’s way to unveil in the first place. He rips the cotton from it, a bomb showing itself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God. Is that a nuke?” Niall says, but not before Zayn has a chance to stretch his arms forward and press the black button on the side of it. It beeps, once, twice, three times, and the countdown begins.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had a really hard time writing this chapter and I pretty much scrapped half of it and rewrote it. Let me know what you think! </p><p>My tumblr is sunflower-live</p><p>PS The line about the dimples is something someone told a guy I was friends with in 5th grade and it's probably one of the funniest things I've ever heard so I added it..</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay! It was my birthday yesterday so I took a couple days off from writing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We need to go. Now!” Gemma scrambles backwards, her balance thrown off as her steps land unevenly. They spin on their heels and run, not bothering to even attempt to disarm the bomb. With Zayn conscious, their chance of rescuing the others and getting out of the compound alive has decreased tenfold. Two corners turned, Niall halts his movement, Gemma bumping into his back. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve found their friends, and if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, Niall would endlessly taunt the two for what they’ve run in on. Louis is shirtless, standing above the other boy who’s still seated on one of the benches. Harry’s hands are outstretched to grasp at his hips, his nostrils moving with labored breaths as he’s eye level with the petit man’s waist. </p><p> </p><p>“Guys,” Niall says, leaning his hands on his knees as he catches his breath, “we need to get out of here.” </p><p> </p><p>Their blown pupils turn towards the commotion. Snapping out of their lust filled transe, Louis backs away, causing Harry’s hands to fall back to his own lap. He snatches his discarded clothing, pulling it hastily back over his head while Harry pushes himself off the bench to stand..</p><p> </p><p>Gemma scans her eyes over the area, finding a keyring hanging from a rusted nail a couple of feet from the cage. She brings it to the padlock, clamoring to unlock it as fast as she can. The heavy metal opens with a creak. “Come on!” she swings the gate open, letting the boys free. </p><p> </p><p>The group anxiously traces their steps from when they were first brought to the cell, keeping their movements quick but quiet. They make it to the opening they had been drug through upon their arrival and nimbly they push the tarp aside to exit. As their luck would have it, the area is clear of any militant men. Lush shrubbery allows them access to cover in the likely chance that someone may appear from one of the short buildings that lines the area.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, there’s a car over there!” Niall points in the direction of an old beat up police car, “We won’t make it back in time if we go by foot.” </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s hope that they were dumb enough to leave the keys inside..” Harry dubiously trails off as they run to the vehicle.</p><p> </p><p>Louis jumps into the passenger seat, the door unlocked, and the others follow his lead. “Thank God! The keys are here.” he fishes them from the cup holder, “Harry, are you okay driving?” he looks at him, head tilted. </p><p> </p><p>Harry holds his hand out for Louis to drop the keys in, “Yeah. I think I can get us back.” He’s fairly confident that he knows where they are. If he follows the old streets he should get them back in time. </p><p> </p><p>Keys in the ignition, the car starts with a rumble. He shifts it out of park and accelerates, speeding towards the compound gate. </p><p> </p><p>It’s only when they’re turning at Union Square that they notice a truck trailing them. “Fuck. Is that Zayn?” Gemma exclaims, looking back through the dust. </p><p> </p><p>Harry pushes the gas pedal as far as it’ll go, accelerating to a near uncontrollable speed with the rockyness of the road, “What happened back there anyways?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well.. Uh..” Gemma wavers, unsure if now is the right time to disclose what the man had shown them on the screen.</p><p> </p><p>“Des brought the bomb here. From the building. They think we’re trying to do the same and that we know where he is,” Niall blurts out breathlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“And Zayn has his own bomb. He set it to detonate,” Gemma adds.</p><p> </p><p>Harry looks at his sister through the rear-view mirror, “How much time do we have?”</p><p> </p><p>“We didn’t really stop to check..” </p><p> </p><p>Harry looks to his right, making eye contact with Louis, both of their brows drawn and foreheads scrunched, “So basically, we pray that it goes off after the jump?”</p><p> </p><p>“That would be ideal,” Louis nods his head in.</p><p> </p><p>As he says it, the car starts decelerating, coming to a stop near City Hall. </p><p> </p><p>“Great! Just fucking great!” Harry violently throws his door open, the others doing so with matched urgency. They take off sprinting, the building towering in the distance. Only three blocks until they’ll reach it but Zayn’s truck is still going, speeding towards them. Adrenaline takes over, the fear of what will happen if they’re left in this world urging them forward. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on! We’re so close!” Louis grabs Harry by the hand as they reach William, turning them, the others closely behind. They burst through the doors just as Louis' watch hits zero, “Okay, any second now,” he addresses the group.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God, he’s coming,” Gemma stands at the window, peering out to watch Zayn jump from his truck, the bomb ticking in the bed while he runs towards the doors.</p><p> </p><p>“Why isn’t it jumping?!” Harry shouts, feet landing harshly as he makes his way to the entrance to hold the doors to ensure that Zayn can’t get inside. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t.. I don’t know! It’s usually --” the siren cuts off Louis' hysterical reply. Lights flash in the building as Zayn beats his fists against the door. And then the bomb goes off.</p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>“Holy fucking shit. Oh my God!” Niall screams, voice echoing throughout the building, “We’re alive!”</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s whole body is shaking with fear, his eyes wide. He backs away from the door to stand beside Louis, the comfort of his presence calming his nerves. He’s only known this boy for a day and yet he feels connected to him somehow, a pull to always be near him. The moment they shared in the cell plays through his mind. What was that? Louis must feel it too, right? Hopefully it wasn’t just an end of the world thing, Louis wanting to die next to the comfort of somebody else’s body. </p><p> </p><p>“We made it. We’re okay,” Louis says softly, for his ears only, interrupting his thoughts. He reaches for the other boy's hand, gripping it like a lifeline and giving it a surprisingly gentle squeeze. </p><p> </p><p>Harry looks down at their joined hands and then back at the beautiful boy beside him. If it weren’t for the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he may have smirked at him, shown his dimple in a little smile. Nonetheless, a fond softness plays at the edges of his eyes, “Yeah, we made it,” he says in awe.</p><p> </p><p>If they weren’t so wrapped up in each other they may have noticed Gemma’s own fond stare, looking from their hands to their faces. The way she’s been cataloguing their looks this whole time. The way she’s seen them grow closer and closer, using each other as a crutch to prevent their collapse under the weight of the situation. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you guys think we should like..  go outside?” Niall breaks the weighted silence, looking questioningly from Gemma to Harry to Louis. He feels as if he’s missing something, but he can’t quite figure out what it is. </p><p> </p><p>Louis startles, sliding his hand from Harry’s and giving him a half-smile as a parting gift, “Yeah. Shall we?” He steps forward with a forced confidence, leading the way to the doors. </p><p> </p><p>He’s just setting his hand on the bar, ready to push it open, when Harry sidles up beside him, “What if it’s not safe?” </p><p> </p><p>The older boy shrugs and looks at down at his hands, “What other choice do we have?” He unlatches the door, letting the shadows of passerby’s and honking of horns infiltrate the building.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one was a bit shorter but please let me know what you think!</p><p>My tumblr is sunflower-live</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a lot longer than the others, just over 3k words. I was going to continue it but it's nearly 1am and I think the second half will fit nicely in the next chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s like Times Square all around them, bright electronic billboards lighting up the streets, hanging a few stories up from each skyscraper. Businessmen walk by adorned in bright suits; yellows, greens, blues. They talk into futuristic phones, the translucent screens appearing as they stretch their thumb and forefinger, popping out of nowhere. The bustle of the street directly contradicting the previous world that they had just traveled from. No longer are the streets empty and shrouded in greenery, instead they’re packed with people and cars. The glass buildings stretch into the clouds, all at least as tall as the Empire State Building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma, Niall, and Harry look out the doors in wonder, eyes widening at what’s being revealed. Harry looks to Louis, expecting to see the same fascination painted on his features but instead being met with a feigned indifference, he chuckles at the blue eyed boy, “What? Nothing special?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis raises one shoulder in a shrug, “Not much surprises me anymore,” he smiles sadly up at the boy. Quickly schooling his features, he addresses the others, “What do you suppose we do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma grimaces, not wanting to get in another captive situation, “We could go to Dad’s house? We need to find him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s a good idea,” Harry seconds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Louis starts, “How about we split up? Harry and I can go to your Dad’s house,” he looks to Harry for confirmation, receiving a nod. Then turning to the other two, “Gemma, Niall, you guys explore this world, find out whatever you can.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Niall replies, elated that he won’t be needing to venture far from the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be back here in,” Louis checks his watch, “six hours?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After splitting up, Harry and Louis decide it’s best to see if there is still a subway system running through the city. They turn left out of the building, following William to where it should hopefully meet Wall Street and lead them to the 2 and 3, either of which could take them to Des’ house near Prospect Park. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of blocks from the building, they find themselves stopping in front of a food truck, “That’s funny, there’s usually a cart here with Indian food,” Harry smiles, reminiscing about when he was in college and would get cash out at a sketchy corner ATM to buy his favorite Tikka Masala. Not much could beat the cheap meal after a long day of classes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis gives him a fond look before the worker urges them to order, “What’s good?” he asks, not bothering to look at the menu.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We only sell crombie,” the lady replies, irritated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrunches his face, “Okay. What’s crombie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crombie’s crombie,” she rolls her eyes, “it’s all we have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.. Well we’ll take two.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She disappears for a moment and comes back holding two messy sandwiches. They look to be stuffed with a combination of different seafoods; crab, salmon, possibly some clams. The bun is wet with a white sauce, smelling strongly of vinegar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She goes to hand the food to the two, stopping and nodding her head towards a screen on the door, “You have to pay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I -- Sorry,” Harry pulls his tattered leather wallet from his back pocket but is met with a questioning look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your hand,” she rolls her eyes once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait Gems, look at this!” Niall grabs her arm, stopping them in front of a tiny store. Displayed in the window is one of the phones that they had seen people using before. It’s similar to an iPhone but it’s just a barely there screen, no metal holding it together. “This world is so much cooler than ours!” he holds his palms to the window, face up against the glass with childlike wonder, “I want one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s be quick,” she walks to the door and opens it, the bell ringing above them to notify the man at the counter of their arrival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! How much for one of these?” Niall stands in front of the glass case, bouncing in excitement, and points at the phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Five hundred,” he responds flatly, as if he’d rather be anywhere else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall shrugs, “That’s not bad. I’ll take one!” His mind whirrs with thoughts of how this device could make him famous back home. If he sold it to Apple he could be a billionaire! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bored man slowly rings him up, “Name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh.. Niall Horan,” he widens his eyes at Gemma.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hand?” the man signals towards a screen built into the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Uhm. Okay?” Niall sets his palm down on it, a picture of himself in a suit popping up as it beeps and alerts him with a message stating that five hundred dollars has been charged to his account.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worker looks at the small screen and then at his own computer, checking that the sale went through, “All set. Thanks Mr. Horan.” He hands over a little brown bag that holds the device.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My hand?” Harry scrunches his face in confusion and looks to Louis, expecting confirmation of some sort. He just shrugs in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on! Hurry up! I’m on break!” shouts a man in a yellow floral suit who stands a few feet behind them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry..” Harry mutters back as he presses his hand to the screen. It lights up with a message, ‘User not found’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lady has a look of panic on her face as she notices the alert that’s popped up, “How’s that possible? Everyone’s in the system. I think you need to go.” She waves them off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir, can I help you?” the worker calls to the man who’s just slinked into the same shop that the other two had just left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn looks around, scanning every shelf, eyes wide in wonder. He fiddles with the devices that surround him; from compact computers to screens that expand from a tiny object and project bright images onto the wall. He finally registers the man's words and makes his way to the front, “I’ll take it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“All of it? Are you sure?” he looks at him as if he’s grown a second head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said what I said,” Zayn snaps back unkindly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worker moans quietly as he begins to wrap up the various items, “Can’t wait until I’m off. This day is so fucking weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, just a long day,” he responds, “Hand please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” his face scrunches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right there, put your hand on the screen,” he rolls his eyes, fed up with having to deal with clueless customers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn sets his hand down and it alerts him of funds being withdrawn from his account, a picture of himself flashing momentarily across the glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Done. Thanks,” the man waves him off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn pointedly looks around the empty shop, “Actually, mind if I go back there for a little bit,” he motions to the heavy black curtain that the worker is standing in front of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking that if this man has the money to buy so many electronics, he might as well let him back, he replies only slightly suspiciously, “Sure man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry, let’s go,” Louis tugs on the younger man's arm with a new sense of urgency, raising a single eyebrow to communicate how dire the situation may be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting him pull him away from the cart, he trips over the small curb, his bambi legs nearly causing him to fall to the pavement. Once he balances himself, with help from the smaller boy who still has a hold on his arm, he inquires, “What was that about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not quite sure.. Usually it’s not a problem using ‘other you’s’”, he makes air quotes, “money in worlds like this,” he darts his gaze and slows his words in realization.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks at him quizzically, “So what does that mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis looks ahead, not wanting to have this conversation, “Well, sometimes you find worlds where you don’t exist. It’s really rare but it happens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I.. don’t exist here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and this is why I try to keep to myself when I’m travelling. The only thing worse than running into yourself is finding out that you don’t exist at all. That you were never born,” he finally looks back, his tone conveying how sorry he is that he has to be the one to tell Harry this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And my dad? And Gemma? What about my mom?” he asks with trepidation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll find out when we get to the house,” he speeds his gait.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where to next Gems?” Niall shoves the girl playfully as they walk down the sidewalk, still elated by his new purchase. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stops to reassess her ponytail, pulling the hair-tie out and leaning forward to shake her hair. Pulling it back up and fastening the tie once again, she responds, “Let’s just keep walking, see where it takes us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright!” Niall whips around, staring at who he’s just seen exit the apartment building that they’ve just passed, “Gemma. Gemma! Look!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She moves her eyes to where he’s pointing, at a man who looks exactly like the man who she’s travelled here with, “Oh my God. Is that you?” Niall moves to start towards the man, waving his arms to try and get his attention. He doesn’t get far before Gemma snatches at his arm, “Don’t, you idiot. I have a feeling that it wouldn’t go over well if you just waltzed up to him and introduced yourself,” she uses her free hand to motion up and down his body, “as him!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you’ve got a point,” he turns back around as her grip loosens, “But you know what we could do,” he smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What Niall?” she replies shortly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tips his head in the direction of the apartment complex, “Maybe he lives there? If we’re technically the same person there’s no harm in checking it out!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She follows him towards the massive building, weakly protesting, “Yeah but it’s not like you’re the one paying the bills.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, whatever,” he continues forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The building spans the whole block. It’s made of opaque black glass that shines like obsidian, reflecting the movement of the city. As they enter through the gold doors they’re greeted by a bellman, “Hello Mr. Horan! Back so soon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Just forgot something!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma scoffs at his reply, but still, she follows him to the elevators. She soon realizes something, “So how are we supposed to know what floor he’s on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator dings open and they step in. Before he can answer, the attendant steps from in front of a screen, “Hand please?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall looks pleadingly at Gemma but she just shrugs back. With no other option, he presses his hand to the glass and the elevator begins it’s quick ascent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully the man has left Zayn alone with his purchases. He’s spread them out across a work table and begins his search for tools. It takes only a moment, as there are some set in a bag under the table. He snatches the green bag and hauls it onto the table, dumping the contents beside the electronics. Getting to work, he begins disassembling the different devices. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lou! It’s here!” Harry reaches for his hand as they stand at the steps of the Wall Street subway station. The sign above the decline glows, the white ‘2’ and ‘3’ lit up inside of red circles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They run down the stairs as the sound of the train pulling to the station rumbles the sleek tiled blocks that hold the ceiling up. A difference between his world and this world, Harry notes to himself, is how the station is tastefully decorated and impeccably clean. Not a single rat in sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The turnstile has a screen like the food cart, but seeing as Harry doesn’t have a handprint that will allow him access, he jumps it, much like he would back home. Louis presses his hand to the screen with a quiet chuckle, choosing to charge ‘other him’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They step to the edge of the platform as the sleek train screeches to a stop. The doors slide open, much more gracefully than they would back home, no squeak indicating that they could use a coat of grease. Just as fast as they had opened, they close, and the subway leaves the station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hand holding the overhead bar, Harry looks down at Louis who’s taken a seat on one of the benches, “Just a little ways,” he points to the interactive map beside the boys head, “We’ll get off at Franklin Ave.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma and Niall step off the elevator when it comes to a stop at the 14th floor. The scent of the pink roses that sit on top of a short white table fill their noses. The carpet matches the table, as white as talcum powder, as if it hasn’t ever seen the bottom of dirty shoes.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where to now?” Gemma speaks up, walking from door to door, hoping that one will miraculously supply her with an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall stops in front of one of the doors, tucked away the corner furthest from the elevator shaft, “1402,” he reads from the silver plaque, “Same number as my house back home. Feels promising,” he laughs quietly to himself. The door dings and swings open slowly when he touches the handle, “This place is so cool Gems! It’s like we’ve come to the future!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes, something that has become a regular occurrence when she’s in Niall’s presence. He steps inside and she follows. It leads them into a hallway, the door to their left revealing a bathroom as they walk past. It continues on into an open layout, the living room and kitchen joined into one room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma walks to the glass kitchen table and sits down. It matches the rest of the expensive looking apartment, all white and glass and clean, very clean. The table is already set with white bowls flipped upside down on black placemats, silverware set to each side glistening from the light that enters through the floor to ceiling windows. The Niall she knows would trash this place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a button on the top of the table, and Gemma presses it, curiosity getting the best of her. Out from it sprouts a laptop, and like the phone Niall had bought at the shop, it’s just a clear screen, the images appearing in a way that allows them to be transparent. The keyboard emerges as well; numbers, letters, and symbols ghostlike against the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to try to use this to search for my dad,” Gemma mutters as Niall moves to stand behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The login screen pops up asking for a password, “It’s asking for a password,” she looks behind at him, “What should I enter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. We’re not actually the same person.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma pauses to think for a second, “What’s your password back home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not going to work,” Niall urges.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better than nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can promise you that it will not work. We’re not the same people. Just look at where he lives. I live with my mom for God’s sake!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please Niall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he asserts with a sense of finality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not? It doesn’t hurt to try?” Gemma can’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell her, even if it doesn’t work it’s not like the computer is going to explode in their face or anything. Worst case, it’ll lock him out after a couple attempts and they’ll be in the exact same situation that they’re currently in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gem, seriously,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall, seriously,” she jabs, “What is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Gemma123,” he says on a quiet exhale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My password. It’s Gemma123,” he throws his arms out in exasperation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks up from the screen and turns around, meeting his eyes, “It’s,” she types it in, “Gemma123? Why 123?” She knows the answer before he replies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your birthday. December third,” he supplies softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she says in a whisper, her thoughts confirmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cursor stops spinning and the computer unlocks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” the shop worker moves the curtain aside to join Zayn in the back room, a mobile screen in his hand, “the bank called and wants to verify your purchase. Would you mind putting your hand on this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn looks up from his work and pushes his fringe aside, “Yeah, is there a problem?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it was just a lot of money, they need to make sure it isn’t fraud,” the man sets the device on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn presses his hand down and it beeps in confirmation, “Good now? I can go back to work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like it. Sorry about that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn puts his head back down, refocusing on soldering wires, building his own device from the parts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is our stop,” Harry nudges the other boy with his knee, breaking him out of his daydreams. He’d been staring out the window into the darkness of the underground tunnel for the last ten minutes, eyes unfocused and glazed over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Startled, Louis jumps from his seat like it had caught fire, “Lead the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They exit the station onto the wide sidewalk, the vastness of the area rivaling Wall Street. There aren’t any tall buildings nearby and the street goes both directions. The sidewalk is as wide as each lane of traffic, leaving plenty of room for people to walk their dogs and bike freely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is refreshing,” Harry fills his air with lungs, the air much less contaminated than it was downtown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis hums in agreement, looking up at the other boy's face fondly as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, taking in the sunlight. He could watch him all day, he thinks. The way his eyelashes catch the light and fan across his cheeks. His chestnut curls blowing gently in the wind, as if someone has just fanned him with a palm leaf. Louis thinks that he wouldn’t mind being the one to do so, fanning him like he’s an Egyptian Pharaoh. Feed him grapes and sit by his side day and night, worshipping him and waiting on his every beck and call. He forgets their mission if only for a second, “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry laughs, light and airy, “Not recently, no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you are,” Louis smiles back at him, eyes crinkling with the unadulterated joy he feels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he looks down, suddenly shy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Louis reaches out for his hand, lacing their fingers together, his smaller hand being swallowed by Harry’s larger, “let’s go find your dad.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter jumped around quite a bit. Hopefully it wasn't too hard to follow! Let me know what you think!<br/>Tumblr is sunflower-live</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>‘Other Niall’s’ computer opens to a browser already pulled up and Gemma promptly searches her father’s name, ‘Desmond Styles’, as Niall hunches over to watch the screen. She has to scroll a little ways to find anything of importance, but when she does, she holds her hand over her mouth, “Doctor Desmonds Styles, 61, of Brooklyn, NY, was killed in an accident at his William Street laboratory Thursday, September 19th, 2019,” she pauses her reading to collect herself, “He was preceded in death by his wife Anne, and was survived by his daughter Gemma.” She scrunches her nose, holding back her tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gems, it’s okay. This isn’t really your dad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks back at Niall, a single tear tracking down her cheek, “I know, it just seems so real. Like,” she takes a deep breath, “he’s missing, and this is what I find. It could be him, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall nods solemnly in understanding, “I get it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes scan the obituary once more, “Wait, why doesn’t it mention Harry?” Possibilities flood her mind. It could’ve been a mistake, or maybe they don’t talk to him anymore? She opens a new tab and types in her brother’s name. Nothing comes up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s really strange,” Niall mutters, voicing what Gemma was already thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to bother you again,” the shopkeeper pushes the curtains aside once more to join Zayn, “The bank called again, they say that the owner of the account called to report the transaction. I told them that that can’t be possible since you’re right here,” he scratches his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Zayn keeps his cool, slowly starting to gather his newly made device in his arms, “I’m going to step outside to see if I can sort it out,” he quickens his pace, exiting the room and leaving the worker standing dumbfounded in front of the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distracted by the other boy's hand gently gripping his own, Harry has a hard time focusing on the task at hand. He can’t tell if the universe is purposefully messing with him, dangling Louis in front of him when he really, truly, does not have time for any sort of romance. And paired with that, the way that he is so absent one moment and then so sweet and soft the next is giving him whiplash. There’s always a hint of sadness quietly showing itself in his eyes. He’d love to know what he’s hiding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haz,” Louis speaks up, breaking Harry from his thoughts with a tug on his hand, “which way?” They’ve come to an intersection at the end of the long block. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling softly, Harry tilts his head to the left, “That way. Just another block.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They remain hand in hand for the rest of the short walk, sharing secretive glances with each other every couple of steps. If it weren’t for the mission they’re on, for the whole ‘traveling to different Earths and being captured by militant men’, for the way that they’re from different worlds altogether, this could be their normal. Strolling down the streets of Brooklyn, children laughing around them and dogs barking in the nearby park.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pull to a stop in front of a house that Harry knows like the back of his hand. It’s no different than it is back home, the same brick front and chipped paint on the door. It starkly contrasts the ultramodern city that they had just come from, that they can still see in the distance. Niall’s house is still across the street, small and unassuming. Birds are still fluttering, picking bugs from the small lawn that’s cut in half by the concrete walkway. If he closes his eyes for a second, Harry thinks, he could maybe even hear his mom shouting for him to come inside for dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This it?” Harry swallows and nods in reply, “Want to knock?” Louis starts them up towards the door, sensing the other boy’s hesitance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knocks, the thump of his fist echoing against the thick wooden door. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but there’s no answer, no mom pulling the door open to ask how his day was, no dad shouting from behind the house to tell him that it’s already open, to let himself in. It’s just.. Nothing. For some reason it hits him harder in this world than it did during his last visit to the house, when his dad had left him the message. At least then he had some semblance of an idea of what to expect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you try your key?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry furrows his brows, his face still clouded over, “Will it work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis shrugs, “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Choosing to follow his advice, Harry reaches in his pocket, pulling out the key that he rarely uses. He slides it into the door, and turns it. It unlocks with a squeak, the deadbolt stuck from lack of use. Louis steps in front of him as he pulls the key from the lock and slips it back into his jeans. Tapping his foot against the door, he swings it open, revealing the dark and dusty entryway. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while,” he observes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did it say about the accident?” Niall inquires, choosing to move passed the mystery of why Harry isn’t mentioned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma scrolls up and down the webpage, “All it says is that it was his lab.” She opens a new tab, searching ‘William Street Laboratory Accident Desmond Styles’. An article pops up, a picture included, “This is the building.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s running from the shop, device under his arm, as he passes someone that suspiciously looks like himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s talking into a device frantically, “What do you mean they were able to verify the purchase?! I’m talking to you right now and I can assure you that I did not just spend thousands of dollars at an electronics store!” The man is wearing an expensive looking pressed suit, hair quiffed perfectly, the black strands glistening in the afternoon sunlight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn keeps running. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Harry calls out weakly into his childhood home. The dust dispersing with each step he takes into the unknown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They end up in the kitchen, sorting through cabinets in the hopes of finding something to eat. They find a single box of plain cheerios, which smell disgustingly like moths have nested in them. Louis tosses it into the empty trash bin that occupies one corner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry places himself on the counter after taking his father's bag from his shoulder. He sat with his back to the empty cabinets, long legs swinging and hitting the doors to the cupboards below. From the bag he pulls the device that he had all but forgotten about. He turns it in his hands, hoping it will give him some sort of clue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get that?” Louis asks cautiously, moving from the chair he’d been sitting on to in front of the boy to inspect it closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry holds it out for him to take, “Why? Do you know what it is?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I,” Louis draws out the syllable, “don’t know what it is.” Harry looks at him questioningly. “But.. I know where it came from,” Louis says with certainty, his eyes lighting up and a smirk playing on his lips. Harry looks back down at the object. “That came from the core world,” he finishes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall has begun fiddling with an iPad like device to keep himself busy while Gemma continues to search for answers about 156 William Street. He stumbles upon ‘other Niall’s’ emails, “I can’t believe it. I’m an asshole!” he blurts out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Gemma replies in confusion as Niall walks to her from where he had been seated on the sofa. He holds the screen out for her to see for herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look! I’m a corporate scumbag lawyer!” he moans at the revelation. He’d thought for sure that this Niall had led an amazing life, what with how beautiful his apartment is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma looks from the screen to his face, “I mean, ‘you-you’ are a good person, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a deep breath, “Yeah,” and then with more conviction, “Yes! I just can’t believe that I could do something so horrible!” It clicks for him, “That’s why he can afford this place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zayn makes it back to the building that had come from his own home, that had rescued him and transported him to this new place just as his bomb had detonated. He enters discreetly, not looking to draw attention to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inside, he sets his device down and gets back to work. No chance of a distrustful worker walking in on him here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Core world?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis answers with spirit, gesticulating wildly with no real aim, “Nobody knows where the building actually came from. But, it’s always the same in every single universe. The same writing on the walls, the same emptiness, hell, even the same empty peach can will be in every building, in every world. It is always the same,” he emphasizes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t just appear out of thin air,” he slows his words to make a point, “Somebody, somewhere, made it.” He takes the sphere from Harry’s hand, “Whatever crazy world it is, where it came from, that’s what people call the core world.” He holds the object up, “They have the power, the technology, to punch a hole through every parallel universe. Think about what a crazy fucking world that would be,” he steps between Harry’s open legs, bumping his body against the counter, “They must be a thousand,” he slaps a hand on the other boys thigh in excitement, “a million, years ahead of us - technology wise.” He sets the object back on the countertop, “Nobody’s ever been there before, but every so often, somebody finds a piece from the core world,” he picks it back up to set it in Harry’s hand, “A piece of technology, like this, that’s so cool and mysterious that it couldn't have been from anywhere else.” He moves back a few feet, “So how’d your dad get it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I guess that’s the jones,” Harry laughs at his cleverness, his dimples finally showing as Louis’ enthusiasm brings his own mood up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis darts forward and smacks a loud kiss on the boy’s cheek, right over his charming dimple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall pulls up an email, already expecting the tone to reflect the narcissist man that composed it. He wasn’t expecting the extent at which his asshole behavior reached, “Oh my God. I can’t believe this!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What Ni?” Gemma looks from her own screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hid evidence! I suppressed evidence against a corporation!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stands to try to get a look at what he’s reading, “What corporation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A corporation that killed hundreds of people! It’s in this email,” he hands her the tablet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking it over she frowns, “This is awful,” she looks back up at him, “but what can we do about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes it back from her hands, “Something! I don’t know! I need to make it right.” He pauses, pondering his options, “What if.. What if I release the email. I forward it right now to the New York Times?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but would you really want to ruin his life like that?” Gemma adds with reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall steps back, starting to nod his head and then increasing the speed of the movement with his growing certainty, “Yeah!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shall we try upstairs?” Louis points to the stairs that they’ve found themselves standing at the bottom of. The carpet that had previously lined them is nearly nonexistent, the maroon of it frayed and browning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nods his assent, taking a step forward with the smaller boy, matching his steps on the incline. At the top it’s much the same as in his world. The small oak table is there, but curiously, it only holds a picture of Gemma receiving her college diploma. Back home, his own photo sits beside hers. He walks into what was his dad’s room - it’s the same. He walks into Gemma’s room - the same. But when he walks into his room, it’s a bedroom, but it’s definitely not his. The walls are bare of any posters, painted a dull green. A four poster bed sits in the center and it’s enveloped in a yellow quilt. Even the dresser is different, short and brown, unlike the tall black one that stands in the corner of his room back home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lou, this isn’t my room. It’s different. Where’s my stuff?” he’s still in denial about the possibility that he was never born in this world. Not having his handprint in the database was one thing, but seeing that he’s not actually a part of his family, that they wouldn’t be able to distinguish between him and a stranger on the street, it’s a different kind of pain. It crushes his heart inside his chest, cuts off the air from his lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis meets him with a sad smile as he eases up beside him, putting his arm around his waist and pulling him in, “Haz,” he says delicately, “it’s a weird feeling isn’t it. It’s familiar but at the same time it’s not.” He walks forward, grip leading Harry with him as he sits down on the bed. He pulls him down beside him, reattaching his arm to his waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry lets himself be pulled into the other boy’s side once again, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. He can feel Louis’ small rib cage move with his even breaths and he works to slow his breathing to match it, “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I feel familiar?” Louis asks in a whisper, eyes downcast and shadowed by his long, dark lashes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - What do you mean?” Harry’s caught off guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis looks back at him, smiling another one of his hauntingly sad smiles, “Nevermind.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had to cut off the chapter -again-. My chapter outlines did not take into account how long they would actually be. Tomorrow I will continue! <br/>Let me know your thoughts!</p><p>Tumblr is sunflower-live</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we go!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The lights start to flicker, the laptop screen included. “We should get out of here,” Gemma says nervously, the chair squeaking as she slides it from beneath the table to get up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall hesitates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Gemma turns to face him from where she’s standing in the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall pulls the computer screen back up, “I -- I’ll meet you back down there. Just give me a minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall --” she warns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls the email up, “Just a minute!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. But hurry,” she leaves through the door hesitantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall has the email pulled up, finger ready to click ‘forward’ when he decides against it. He straightens back up and turns around. He moves to step into the hallway but is met by another body bumping into his own. He startles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh!” Gemma screams. “Oh honey! You scared me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I --” Niall splutters as he backs away, scanning his eyes up and down ‘other Gemma’. She has her hair pulled in a slick bun and is wearing a tight blue business casual dress that ends right above the knee. Before he can get too far, she sets her manicured hand on his forearm and leans in, giving him a quick kiss, her red lipstick leaving a print on his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls his sleeve over his hand and raises it to his mouth, rubbing at his lips to remove the mark, hoping this is a natural reaction for him to have in this world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were still at work?” her brows furrow. She drops his arm and walks into a different room. Raising her voice, she continues, “You know, the craziest thing happened to me on the way up here. I was getting in the elevator when I ran into this girl. I swear she looked just like me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes back over to the computer and clicks send, jealousy hot in his veins at the knowledge that this Niall really does seem to have it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s already out the door before she reappears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry lets it go as it was obvious that that was what Louis wanted. They exit the room and go back downstairs, “Hey, let’s check the car.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Okay,” Louis doesn’t know why they would need to but it won't do them any harm, they still have a good chunk of time before they’re supposed to meet the others back at the building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry takes them into the garage, following a similar path to the one him and Gemma had taken back home. They walk the length of the car until they’re standing at the boot, “Maybe this Des has his bag in here too,” he trails off as he unlatches it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you look at that.. There it is,” Louis pulls the bag out, the same bag that Harry has been carrying the whole trip. He hands it to the other boy and they leave the garage, going to the kitchen next. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sets the bag on the dining table and begins to unzip it. Opening it, he reveals a crumpled up piece of newspaper, just like the one from the other bag, but it’s too small to hold a sphere, “Huh.” He unfolds it and inspects it. On one side, in his father's handwriting, is the message, “Run Harry!”. He furrows his brows and shows it to Louis, “What do you think this means?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Outside they hear a car door slam. They move towards the window, looking out to see four men, all in black and each carrying a gun, “I -- Maybe we should run,” Louis speaks frantically. He grabs Harry by his broad shoulders and pushes him back towards the center of the room where they won’t be visible through the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shoves the paper in his pocket and leaves the empty bag on the counter. They run out of the kitchen and towards the back door. Just as Louis’ reaching for the handle, the front door is kicked open, the lock snapping from the harsh impact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do you boys think you’re going?” a man with long silvery hair laughs, bringing his weapon up to point at their heads. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I what!?” ‘other Niall’ screams into his phone, face red in rage, “I did no such thing! You really think I would leak my own emails?! I’m not an idiot!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is not going to end well,” the man says seriously on the other line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was hacked! Get somebody to fix it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s already out there. You better start preparing for the backlash,” the man hangs up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby. Stepping out, Niall spots Gemma right away. She’s standing uncomfortably by the window with her arms crossed, her reflection looking back at her. “Hey, let’s go,” he steps to where she is. They walk out of the lavish building and make their way down the street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking,” Gemma starts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, that’s dangerous,” Niall chuckles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up,” she jabs her elbow into his side as a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “We still have some time before we need to be back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks over at his profile, “Would you want to go sit in the park for a while?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure Gems,” Niall’s eyes light up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All four men have made their way in through the door, noisily stomping towards the two boys, guns raised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Louis mutters to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unafraid of the possibly deadly outcome, Harry runs at the men. He grabs the barrel of one of the guns from underneath and twists it, ripping it from the man’s grip at the same moment that he knees him in the groin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis covers him, faking out two of the other men and spinning around to get behind them. He buries his fingers in their ratty hair and pulls, causing them to let out a yelp, before he then bangs their heads together, rendering them unconscious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry uses the weapon to hit the leader in the head, also knocking him out. The three lay in a pile on the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’d the last guy go?” Louis doesn’t see him sneaking up behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quick to make a move, Harry points the gun at the man and shoots, hitting him right in the chest. He doubles over, his skin paling as blood leaves his body. It’s only seconds before his breathing stops altogether.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis’ eyes widen and move from the body to Harry, “Shit. Thanks Haz.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course, Lou,” he steps over the men to reach the other boy, “Let’s get out of here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, do you see their guns? They’re not from this planet,” he points at the weapon that hangs limply in Harry’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think they’re from the core world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck. Does that mean that these men are from there too?” Harry looks at their lifeless forms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most likely. But yeah, let’s go,” he grabs onto Harry’s hand, causing him to drop the gun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves to pick it up but Louis stops him, “We can’t just walk around the city with a huge gun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Straightening himself he follows Louis out the door. The car that the men had arrived in is parked on the curb, still idling. They look both ways before crossing to it. “Easier than taking the subway,” Louis shrugs, hopping in the passenger seat while Harry gets behind the wheel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk the few blocks to City Hall Park in silence. The sun sets in front of them, coloring the glass buildings in hues of pinks and orange. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they reach the park they only have about an hour before they need to meet the other two back at the building. It’s only three blocks from it though, so they have a decent amount of time to just sit and reflect on the recent events.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re sitting on a bench that helps form the circle around the fountain when Gemma finally breaks the silence, “Hey Niall?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” he looks at her curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know this isn’t really what you signed up for, but I’m really glad you came,” she says as she squeezes his thigh that’s pressed up against her own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face lights up, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He carefully sets his hand on top of hers. To his surprise, she turns her hand over and laces their fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a while longer before she closes her eyes and sags her head against his shoulder, “This okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm,” he hums so quietly that she can only feel it through the vibrating of his body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s peaceful; little birds hopping around chirping, the fountain gurgling softly, the wind blowing through the short trees. It’s as if time stands still when they’re sitting there, bodies close enough to be one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They drive against traffic going back into the city. Cars line the Brooklyn Bridge on the opposite side, bumper to bumper in hopes of getting off of the island and back home after a day of work. It’s no time before they’re driving down Park Row. They soon take a left on Ann Street. Not wanting to risk not finding parking on the main street that the building is on, they pull off to the side of the much narrower street that looks as if it could be an alleyway. Harry moves the gear stick of the old car to park. Louis hands him the duffle from where it had been laying on his lap for safe keeping, and they exit the car simultaneously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma sits up, her phone ringing gently with the alarm that she had set earlier, “Niall,” she shakes him to wake him from his light sleep, “time to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” he opens his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have to get back to the building, meet up with the boys,” her hand is still intertwined with his and once standing, she uses it to tug him up as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Side by side, Niall drops his sweaty palm from her grip and tries to discreetly wipe it against his jeans. He doesn’t want to push his luck with the sudden affection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They leave the area where the fountain is, taking one of the pathways back towards the main street. Not waiting for the glowing light to signal that it’s safe to cross, they cross the street on a red like true New Yorkers. The building is only a few minutes away, and they keep their pace even as they cross the road a couple more times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Up ahead they spot the other two, feet from the double doors. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Louis! Harry!” Gemma calls out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pedestrians don’t spare her a second glance, used to the sound of the city but they turn around upon hearing their names. Harry shouts back, “Right on time guys!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gemma and Niall quicken their steps to reach them faster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You won’t believe what happened to us,” Harry says, a hint of laughter in his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well first off, I don’t exist in this world,” he says with less glee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah we kind of figured that out..” Niall adds cautiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And second,” he continues, “we were attacked by men from another world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What world?” Gemma wrinkles her nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cutting in, Louis continues the conversation, “We think they were from the core world.” The other two look at him quizzically. “The Earth that the building may have originated from.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niall blinks back at him, “Okay.” He doesn’t quite understand what the two are implying, but with their time running out, he decides to leave the topic for another time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The group moves towards the door and Harry grips the handle, pushing it open and letting the outside light into the dark room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A silhouette appears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello guys! Welcome back!” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you think!</p><p>My tumblr is sunflower-live</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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